Homecoming
by TwistedAlice
Summary: Vergil returns home. Has he been gone to long to be able to get the forgiveness he desires? Based after DMC1. Dedicated to J. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: OK - this was a really long WIP - I've been working on this story on and off for about 2 months now... and I think that its able to stand up and be read! and it will also make it easier to remember what chapters I've sent to her and what not!!!

This is the first time I've done any fan fiction so I hope that you like it.

I've tried to keep it in line with DMC cannon - so this technically should fit in between DMC1 and 2.

Yeah DMC belongs to Capcom... lucky things!

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It had been long. Way too long. But in Vergil's eyes maybe not quite long enough. Only time would tell. He sat on the platform gazing at the departure boards. He had been waiting for what felt like forever, but when he checked his watch it had only been about a quarter of an hour. He wished the train would hurry up and get here so he could get on it and go home. He was tired and filthy, exhausted and miserable. A good hot bath was sounding like heaven.

The board, however, mocked him. Time seemed to stand still, the seconds ticked by at a slower rate than normal, even though life bustled on around him.

He stretched on the hard metal bench and felt the coldness through his jeans as he moved and shifted position trying to get comfortable. He propped his legs up on his case. He wondered just how come his bag was that filthy, it was new when he left, it was a present and he had tried to look after it the best he could. The bench was starting to be uncomfortable again. Train stations are not for lingering Vergil decided. He glanced up and the boards and looked away disgusted. Mocking boards.

Vergil let his gaze drift, trying to figure out how to pass the time quicker when he spied a couple of students. At least he thought they might be students. Both had large rucksacks with them, with the mandatory trinkets hanging from them. They seemed to be arguing over a map.

"Bloody tourists" Vergil muttered with a grimace, then he inwardly laughed. To the untrained eye he would look like one too, what with his unkempt appearance and large bag. Oh what would he do for a pot of hair gel. He looked longingly at the chemist, he had no money on him. The travel was booked in advance by the internet, where he had been he had no need for money.

The two girls continued to argue, but they didn't seem to be putting much of an effort into it, Vergil listened in and it seemed to be a good natured argument about what way up the map was meant to be and how to find the underground from here. Vergil smiled, they seemed happy and relaxed. Maybe they were on a gap year and decided to take some time out in London, maybe they were just on holiday. The seemed to be very close friends and were very animated in their argument. They were now pulling faces at one another and flapping their arms about.

"The 8.46 service is arriving on Platform 15. That's the 8.46 service on Platform 15."

Vergil leapt to his feet. In watching the two girls he had forgotten the time. Platform 15. It would have to be the furthest away from where he had stationed himself. He hissed in pain as he shouldered his bag, maybe getting up so quick was not an idea. He had no idea how long it would take before he healed completely, he healed fast, but this pain had been with him for most of his journey. He had almost forgotten for a second just how taxing the past months had been on him, and as the pain dulled to a throbbing ache he figured he wouldn't forget for a while.

Vergil took a deep breath, picked up his sword. His lovely sword, Yamato. Vergil looked longingly at the weapon. It had been through thick and thin with him, he hardly ever was without it. He smiled to himself as he stroked the weapon affectionately. Considering how much had happened to him the damage to the weapon was superficial, a little cleaning and sharpening should sort it out. Of the battle scars on the casing, that was a different matter. He could polish and restore the colour, but the actual deep wounds would not be removed. He sighed. He had many scars to his name, not all of them physical.

He shook himself out of his memories and reminded himself platform 15. he repositioned the bag and strode off towards his new destination. He smiled and nodded at the girls as he walked past. They giggled and waved back. Due to his fantastic hearing he could hear them discussing his attire, his hair and lastly his behind. He almost laughed out loud as he walked away. He was surprised at how nice it felt to have a compliment after all this time. He would give anything for one from him, the one person in the whole world he was sure didn't want to see him.

The blonde girl screamed. Vergil looked up and turned round. Maybe his appearance wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. He hurried back towards them and stopped as he saw the looks of terror on their faces. Blimey, he thought, I hope it isn't me.

Then he heard it. Or rather he felt it. It started as a deep throbbing in his bones and then a ringing in his ears. He knew that this was not what had made the girl scream as humans wouldn't pick up on the demonic vibes like he would. The ground had begun to vibrate, maybe this was what had spooked her?

"Everybody stay calm," A policeman had come out of nowhere and was trying to make people calm and control the situation. Silly human. "Its just a train stopping a little to fast and causing a disturbance. Nothing to worry about."

Vergil raised an eyebrow. Train stopping too fast? Oh how he had missed the humans with their silly explanations for the demonic activity in the world.

Vergil took a deep breath and put his bag down. Hopefully he still had the magic charm that humans found compelled to obey.

"Excuse me, officer!" Vergil strode towards them with slightly more of a limp than he liked. He hated to look weak. The officers looked up. Two of them, that would tax him a little more of there was trouble.

Vergil stopped short. Both officers had their hands resting at their hips on their guns. Guns. Since when did the police in London carry guns? He walked forward a few more steps and noticed their started to grip the guns.

"Just put it down, sir." The first officer had drawn their gun "We don't want any trouble here". He seemed to be the higher authority, he had a few different coloured badges under his name tag whereas the other did not.

Vergil was confused. Put it down. He wasn't carrying anything. Then he remembered his sword.

"Damn" he hissed under his breath, then louder to the men "It's ok, I'm not going to hurt anyone." He made calming gestures with his hands, well he thought they were calming. The officers seemed to take it as a threat, however, as the other one had now drawn their gun. What was wrong with people, he'd not been away that long. But then again, he was never the stronger at communications with the humans, he had come to loath them. They only got in the way and ended up getting hurt.

He tried again, "I've just returned from Asia" he gestured towards his large bag, "I've been training there and honing my skills"

The second officer had just called for back up. Ok maybe being honest was not a good thing. Humans just didn't understand the ways of the world, they would rather explain away the existence of other life with a disaster story, like when he raised the Temen-Ni-Gru. He shook his head to focus. Memories were memories, there was nothing that could be changed about the past.

The tower still stood. The humans made up a rather impressive cover story about it being the result of an earthquake many eons ago. The temple was built to open the portal to the demon world. Vergil's father had closed it, along with his powers on the other side, to the mortal world. The he vanished before Vergil had gotten to know him. Vergil hated the humans with a passion back then. The only one he had loved was his mother, she was perfect to him. Then she was stolen away before her time and he begun his downward spiral into his own hell and ran away from her lifeless body into the dark night. Vergil had been contacted during this spell of weakness by a strange dark figure who wanted to open the portal. The portal was opened, but it hadn't remained for long and it closed with Vergil on the other side in the hell dimension. It had taken great courage and strength to escape it. Once he had he didn't return to his old life. He found the humans had glossed over all that had happened and forgotten the terror that it had inflicted on the world. All of his efforts had been in vain. He tried to get back to his normal life, but he couldn't face being forgiven by the one person he needed to be forgiven by and after a much heated argument he had left for Asia. He now felt that he was able to return after the months of hard training and spiritual enlightenment. He had not expected this when he returned.

Somehow the power from the tower, albeit dormant power, was making it easier for demons to pass through from their world to here. Why they needed to terrorise this world was something he had never found out while being there and while in Asia. Something about this world seemed to draw them. Maybe it was the innocence that they had lost, maybe it was the fear they inflicted, maybe it was loneliness. It could have been any number of things. What was most important right now was that there were two police officers with guns pointed at them, a glowing circle in the air behind him and, damn it to hell, his train was going to leave in fifteen minutes. He wasn't about to miss that train for anything.

"Please excuse me officers." Vergil turned with a new objective. Screw trying to calm and get rid of the humans, just slaughter what was going to come through this portal and get the hell on that train! He glanced up at the clock, he had time, he had time.

A bright white light suddenly sprang from no where. Vergil had to shield his eyes. A soft sobbing sound was coming from it. He peered from between his fingers and was shocked to see an image of his mother crying in the light. He reached out to touch her. Even crying she was still beautiful. You could tell where he got his good looks from, and he could appreciate what his father saw in her. She was perfect, an angel. Then Vergil remembered that this light had come from a portal from hell. He pulled his sword free and slashed the sphere in two. Each side hit the floor with a soft clink. One bounced a couple of times, the other shattered with a tinkle that sounded almost magical.

A girl was standing in front of him. She was about 6 years old and by Vergil's estimation scrawny. He was skinny after all, toned but skinny, but this girls skin was almost falling off her bones from being so underweight. She was crying and rocking herself back and forth. Vergil was confused. He had expected a demon. He was agitated and bounced from foot to foot. The girl continued to sob. He looked around and saw that the policemen and backpackers were just staring in shock at him. He wondered what they could actually see. He was never quite sure, some of the demons he had come across were powerful enough to mask themselves from the moral world.

He sheathed his sword and knelt down.

"Are you ok?" he whispered to the girl. This was awkward. He wasn't a child person.

"Please don't send me back mister." The girl had not looked up at him, she mumbled from behind a mess of hair and her hands. "Please."

He sighed, maybe this was one of the rare tortured souls that had been sent to hell as a sacrifice. He had met a few on his journey, none of them being children though. He couldn't start to imagine what this poor child had gone through and what she would continue to go though. Spirits don't age. She died when she was six, and would be for eternity.

"Come here," he opened his arms in an awkward hug "it'll be ok."

The girl looked up at him. She grinned.

"Crap"

The girl suddenly leapt up and into his arms. To late he tried to block her and stand up in one motion. She was latched onto his face with a vicelike grip. She cackled and laughed at him. She scratched at his eyes and spat in his face. Roaring with pain and rage he managed to throw her off where she hit the wall with a sickening thud.

Vergil lent forward onto his knees and panted for a second. What the hell what that? He touched his face and felt the scratches. His fingertips had blood on them when he looked at them. He took his sword out to use it as a mirror. The scratches were deep but they were already starting to heal. There was too much blood on his face for it to be just his. He realised that the child demon had been crying blood and spitting it in his face.

The first officer came up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah." Vergil regretted his show of weakness, he was not weak.

"Here." One of the backpackers was holding out a packed of wet wipes. "looks like you need these." She smiled at him, a little scared, but it was a kind gesture all the same.

He didn't know where to look. Thankfully the blood on his face covered the blush. Kind treatment was not something he was familiar with.

"Thanks!" He tried to sound friendly, but to his ears he sounded harsh and cold. The girl was visibly shocked too.

"I was only trying to be nice!" and she stalked off. Vergil was taken aback at her boldness, he liked her attitude, it reminded him of someone he loved.

"Hey!" He called after her "I'm sorry, I've been having a bad day, really I am thankful." He tried to smile again and was rewarded with a wave and a smile back.

"Last call for platform 15"

Vergil grabbed his bag, said his apologies to the officers and ran over to where the demon child was wounded. He knew it wasn't dead as it had not evaporated. They always did when they were killed. They were not of this world and once their life force was exhausted they were returned someplace else.

Vergil looked down at the pathetic creature. It clawed at his boots and tried to spit blood up at him again. Its head had been smashed in and what was left of it was making a mess on the floor, and now his jeans. They were the only clean pair of trousers that he owned! Everything else was in his case and it was all filthy. Swiftly he drew his sword and stabbed the creature in the heart, drawing a soft murmur and a childlike sigh as it disappeared. Maybe it was a soul of a child that was killed by someone. Maybe it had finally returned to heaven. Maybe it was something else entirely.

Vergil ran to the gates and vaulted them, much to the ticket persons disgust. She shouted after him and he just ignored her. This was his train and he was going to make it. He ran down the platform as fast as he could. He considered triggering, but with the little strength he had left he felt it was futile, it would exhaust him just to turn. Luckily it seemed that it was his day, he snorted to himself as he sat down in the almost empty compartment. Lucky? He returned to London to face a demon in front of god knows how many humans, and to top it all off he had demon goo on his jeans and blood all over his face. He plucked a wet wipe from packet and used the window as a mirror. He was horrified to see how pale and gaunt the events had left him. He hoped there would be a refreshment trolley, he had paid for a good seat, which meant there would be free drinks, even it was just water that would do.

"Drink, sir?" The woman smiled at him. He jumped, he must had dozed off.

"Yes, thanks." He chose from the drinks offered and selected a large lump of ice and asked for a tissue.

"Certainly, sir" The waitress gave it to him. Vergil promptly pressed the tissue to his face, the cuts were burning a little, it might have been the demon blood from the child thing. Either way the ice was soothing.

He stared out the window, only a few more stops and he would be almost home. Just a few more and he would see if it had all been worth it. Time to find out if he had done enough to be forgiven.

Vergil closed his eyes and slept.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: OK - this was a really long WIP - I've been working on this story on and off for about 2 months now... and I think that its able to stand up and be read! and it will also make it easier to remember what chapters I've sent to her and what not!!!

This is the first time I've done any fan fiction so I hope that you like it.

This one is a little shorter than the last but hopefully it will still keep you engaged!

I've tried to keep it in line with DMC cannon - so this technically should fit in between DMC1 and 2.

Yeah DMC belongs to Capcom... lucky things!

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"Last stop, all change please." The train driver sounded bored. "Please remember to take all of your belongings with you. All change please".

Vergil stretched. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Here already? He glanced out the window and the familiar sight of the grubby train station greeted him. Yes, he was back it seemed. Picking up his bag again he quickly glanced in the train window. Most of the cuts were healed, a couple on his cheek were a little tender, and they were weeping a little. Using a clean wet wipe he dabbed at his cheek and was shocked to find a lump in one of the cuts. Rather than investigate there he left it alone and disembarked from the train. He could look at it later when he had that bath he had been promising himself.

It was raining. Good old English weather. Thankfully it was only spitting and not too cold yet. Vergil walked over to the bus shelter and tried to get comfortable waiting again. Always waiting. He knew he shouldn't be impatient, after all, the teaching he had endured and taught him to be calm and collected. He had learnt to channel his darker side into the blade with such efficacy he hardly needed to draw the sword before he needed to strike. He was proud of the work he had done. The ache in his muscles reminding him that he had worked good and hard. He leaned against the bus stop hoping that it had been enough; he prayed it had been enough. He looked at his watch and glanced down the road. There were no cars in sight. It was a good couple of miles trek back home, he was contemplating walking it when the heavens opened with such a vengeance that the rain was bouncing up from the pavement and hitting him on the legs. More dirt on his already demony dirty jeans. Ok so maybe he would wait for the bus instead. He could wait; he had been doing much of that.

A news paper was on the other bench by the bus stop and he scooped it up. Let's see what has been going on in the world. So the war was still raging in Iraq, still a high rate of teen pregnancies, a new outbreak of bird flu, congestion charge has been put up, a huge meltdown at the local nuclear factory which had caused the lower town district to be abandoned and only a few people remained most of the people had died, there were train fares going up… Wait. Vergil turned back a few pages. Nuclear meltdown? In lower town? But, that's where home was. He started to worry, hopefully it was still there.

The screech of the bus breaks brought him out of his haze. He clambered aboard and showed his pass.

"Where to mate?" the bus driver sounded too cheery for Vergil's liking.

"Lower town" he whispered hoarsely.

"You sure mate? Most of it is just rubble"

"I have no where else to go"

"Fair enough, settle down"

Vergil gazed out of the rain soaked windows at the grey world. As they got closer to the district everything became more empty and desolate. Here and there a light was on showing some occupation but as he neared his destination they became very few and far between. Vergil wouldn't give up just yet. He had to see. He had to know.

"Last stop mate" The bus driver called to him

"Really?" He looked out the window, as far as he could remember the bus almost stopped outside his home. "Are you sure?"

"Have you been away for long?" the bus driver pointed at his bag

Vergil nodded and pulled the bag down. "How long ago did this happen?"

The bus driver sat back and scratched at his stubbly beard. "Say now, about 6 months or so?" He switched off the engine. "There are a few people still living here, but most of it is now a ghost town."

"Ghost town?" Vergil waited for the bus doors to open. When they didn't he turned back to the driver, he was impatient to be going, but he sensed the man had more to say.

"Yes, ghosts. They are all around, they come out mainly at night, and it's quite a scary place. The government won't believe it, they say it's just in the imagination of the folks that are living round here but you know what they say." He gave Vergil a knowing look as though he was meant to understand. Vergil nodded; he felt this was the correct response.

"I understand. Please open the doors, I have to go home." He walked down the steps and waited.

"Fair enough, mate" The driver opened the door, "but if you ask me what you're looking for ain't here no more!"

Vergil thanked the driver and pulled the collar up on his shirt. He wished that he could put his jacket on, but seeing as it was covered in blood he should really wait for the human to go away. He didn't want to become more gossip.

The bus eventually pulled away and Vergil retried his coat from the bag. It was ripped and crumpled. But it was still the same vibrant blue it had been when he had first got it. His mother had loved it on him, it emphasised the cool blue eyes that he had. It was a stark contrast to the other person in his life. He blinked back tears as he tried not to think about what might have happened. Donning his coat and steeling himself for what he may discover he walked into the gloom and fog.

Everywhere he looked was broken down houses, windows smashed and doors open to the elements. He kept catching movement in the corner of his eyes. Its just the rain he said, just the rain. He didn't have the energy to fight at the moment; he had a more urgent task at hand.

The tower you could still be seen in the distance, the top hidden by the low cloud cover. At the top of the tower he had betrayed the one he loved, he had tried to destroy him. If he was not careful the memories would try to destroy him as well. He would not dwell on it. He had to find out what had happened here. This district always had the highest number of demon encounters, even before the tower had been brought into this world by Vergil's own hand. It was his will that had caused this and he would continue to feel the guilt until his dying day.

The town square was just a mess of rubble. There were a few birds still on the market stalls. They flapped their wings when Vergil approached, but they did not take flight. Human forms were rare here; they knew they had nothing to fear from him. He walked up to a large crow like bird and held his hand out to it. It seemed to regard him with disgust as it flapped its wings and took off into the grey. Vergil knew he was now wasting time as his destination was just down the next side street. He was scared of what he would find.

The rain was coming down harder and he moved towards to alley way. The passage was dark and difficult to make out anything. Vergil was sure there were life forms down there that shouldn't be there. They seemed to be just out of his demon senses so it was hard to tell if they were spirits or actual demons. He took a long breath and started down the alley.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: OK – you know the drill… dedicated to J

This is the first time I've done any fan fiction so I hope that you like it.

I've tried to keep it in line with DMC cannon - so this technically should fit in between DMC1 and 2.

Yeah DMC belongs to Capcom... lucky things!

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The alleyway stank of old flesh. There were demons loitering in the shadows but they didn't come out to play, much to Vergil's disappointment. He was getting more agitated and stressed with each step that he took. The alley was dark and long, but he knew it like the back of his hand. It was a long time since he had passed this way. The walls were a darker colour than he remembered and there was more graffiti on the walls. Someone had sprayed that the end of the world was nigh over the windows of a shop. Vergil shook his head. Just what had happened here? He had seen enough aftermath for a while.

Ash hung in the air like a thick soup. As he walked further down the alley he looked back, convinced he saw a flash of red. Demon maybe being a little bolder than its counterparts perhaps? Maybe a figment of his imagination. The silence was deafening, all he could hear was the whisper and murmur of lost souls in his head and the slow trickle of blood running in the gutter. Of course to the untrained, or un demon ear it would be perfect quiet, quiet contemplation of a graveyard quiet, to Vergil the sounds of an abattoir.

He turned the corner in the alley to come to an open space. He could have gone the long way round and come up the road to the building, but he liked the shadows of the alley. He still felt conspicuous after the episode in the train station about being in the open, and something about this place was sending his demon senses into overdrive.

He glanced out of the alley to make sure that the place is deserted. And one end of the road he knew was the tower. He could still feel the pulsing presence of the portal contained by it. It has a hypnotic quality to it and he was half compelled to make his way towards it. No. Not this time. That was the old Vergil, back when he was weak. He has to be strong and resist the call. It was always going to be hard when he returned, but he didn't realise the call would be this strong. But maybe it was because of what lay at the other end of the street. He knew he was making excuses. He had a destination, he was just scared. He snorted to himself and frowned. He was the son of the Legendary Dark knight Sparda. He had nothing to fear.

Stepping out of the alley into the road he looked up at the building. He gasped his knees almost gave way. How did this happen, what on earth had done this. Correction he thought, what in hell's name has done this.

The building was standing, barely. The windows were all grimy and covered in dirt. The front door was hanging off by the hinges and the shop window had a large crack in it. There was a wooden sheet holding the window pane in it seemed. Vergil came closer and stopped on the thresh hold. What had gone on here? The pool table was broken, rather crushed by some immense weight and even the desk was smashed. Vergil put his bag one of the chairs that seemed to be have survived. The chair broke into a cloud of dust. Vergil coughed and backed away. He bumped into the jukebox. He had stocked it full of their favourite CDs just for him. It was broken. The CDs scratched and dented. Most of them laying on the floor. Vergil bent to pick one up. It was so destroyed he was unable to read what it had been.

In horror he threw the CD away. His reflection in it was pale and gaunt. He looked physically sick. He leant on the remains of the desk choking back the urge to scream. This desk had held so many memories. He opened a draw and found the letter opener that his father had left. It was not inscribed to him. With great power comes great responsibility, use it well, my Son. Vergil didn't realise that he was gripping the letter opener so hard until the blood began to pool on the floor. He gasped and dropped it. The cut on his hand healed as he watched. Considering he had spent a large amount of time in this place there was not many possessions in the main office. All the hunting trophies had fallen off the wall and blood was splattered everywhere. Oh please no, thought Vergil, don't let it be his.

The stairs beckoned. Vergil tried to push the doors closed, the last thing he wanted was some dark creature slinking in and catching him off guard. The doors would not yield. Then again there was probably more in here to be scared of than there was out there. Pull yourself together he thought. You have to do this. You have to know the truth.

The hallway was dark. The walls were pitted with bullet holes and battle scars. Vergil was surprised, no one had managed to get this far before. Normally the area was well defended by no only brute force but wards and enchantments. Was this his fault? He wouldn't have gone if he had known. Then again, considering the circumstances he might still have done just out of spite. In each room was broken furniture, more signs of struggle and disrepair. His parents room was in tatters. The large bed had been hacked at and long scratches adorned the head board. It was still useable it seemed, but the springs were coming out the mattress and feathers all over the room. There was blood in here as well, much of it he could sense was demon blood. In certain circumstances although the body returns to the abyss the aftermath remains.

Vergil turned from the room with regret, there was nothing he would have been able to do to stop this destruction. Some of it must have been from the 'fall out' which he assumed by now was another large portal becoming opened, from the amount of damage that the house had sustained it seemed to be filled with large demons which were powerful enough to rip through.

The last room beckoned. This was his room. He almost didn't want to look. He was frightened to what he was going to find.

He quickly checked the bathroom on the way. The sink had been shattered and dark marks were all over the shower curtain. He reached out and pulled the curtain back. The bath was full of darkness, black thick scum. It had not been used for days, maybe even weeks. A sound alerted him to a presence. He tensed and listened intently. After a few minutes he decided that is was nothing more than the building shifting in the ever relentless pull of gravity.

He could no longer hold it off. He took a deep breath and stepped up to the threshold. The door was pitted and scared. Claw marks were on the outside, like something was panicking to get into the room, or maybe desperate to get what was inside the room. The door was stuck. It seemed to be locked. Strange, Vergil thought, all the other rooms were open, including the front door. With a hard shove the lock popped open and Vergil stumbled into the room. He dusted off his jacket and realised that a kick would have been more efficient if there was something in the room. Luckily it was deserted.

This was his room. Their room. It looked the same as it had the day he had left. Then his gaze shifted from the memories to the present. The room was indeed deserted. The bed was shattered. The posts broken and laying in a heap. The wood splintered and dusty. Vergil bit back a growl as he saw the blood spray against the walls. This was not demon blood. This was blood that he knew well and it was the ying to the yang that flowed through his veins. Everything in the room was in tatters. His clothes that he has left behind were in shreds across the floor. The sheets from the bed had been ripped and feathers were everywhere. They may be half demon but they have a bit of taste. The silken bed sheets were soaked in blood, both demon and otherwise. The sofa they lounged on while watching movies was in pieces. The cushions at either ends of the room. The velvet drapes torn from their runners, claw marked and crumpled like dying butterflies. The TV had been trashed, ripped from the wall and the screen broken, most likely by a foot. The walk in closet was also soaked in blood.

On the floor was the tattered remains of a red coat. Vergil bent to examine it. It was covered in demon entrails. The red had soaked up the blood and was almost black in places. The leather was in shreds. Vergil tenderly picked up the coat and held it. This was where he had made his last stand. To guard the family home it seemed. They had overcome him. As far as he could tell the demons must have consumed him. The amount of blood in the small room could easily have been enough to show this was where he died. He found it ironic that just his coat was left. None of his weapons were near by, but then maybe they had been lost to him before. Vergil glanced about, there was no bullet holes or sword marks in here or the bedroom. Maybe they were in other rooms, most likely not. Most likely the demons had taken them with them.

Vergil perched on the edge of the bed, well what was left of it. He held the coat closer and stared at his hands. If he had not left he might have prevented this. They had sworn to protect each other for ever when they were children. Then their mother was taken from them. Vergil had fallen to the side of darkness while the other had tried to compensate by trying to destroy the things that stole her away. His father sacrificed his power to end the war. And he couldn't bare the thought of it any more and was consumed by his rage. He had caused the rip in reality to become a floodgate and had managed to turn himself inwards away from everything.

He hadn't wanted to hurt him. He had gotten in the way and when it was too late he tried to save him. He hadn't deserved to be saved. When he had come back he had welcomed him back with open arms. Vergil hung his head in shame. This was all his fault. He should have been here when he was needed. When he was crying out in pain. He should have stood by his side and gone down with him.

His knuckles where white and tight. He was gripping the shreds of leather so tightly it was cutting into his skin. He relished the pain. He deserved pain. What had he expected? The town had been turning into a ghost town when he left all those months ago. Most of the towns people had moved on or out. Maybe something in the air made them uneasy. Humans were strange creatures. They could deny the existence of a hell dimension, even when the proof was sticking out the ground. Some of the fanatics had wanted to preserve the tower. They were sure it was some forgotten religions temple. They were half right he smirked to himself.

The sun was weak here. The window in the closet was shattered and the sun pooled on the floor. Vergil focused on the floor. Something was not right. Maybe the fact that his family home was just a shell of a building now. No it wasn't that. Something else. It would come to him later.

He put the leather scraps in his pocket and trudged back down the stairs. His bag forgotten for the while. His heart cracked a little in his chest. He had given him that bag when they were children. He had wanted to see the world, he was the ambitious one. He was the one that was looking for the power. The other just wanted to stay at home and fight the good fight. He had opened his business and it was successful. For the time Vergil had returned from the hell dimension he had fought side by side with him against the dark hordes he himself had unleashed.

It had been good for a while, but it had not been enough. Every time Vergil looked at him he felt only guilt that he had let him down. He had let the family down, what would his father think of him, and his mother.

A dry sob escaped from him as the weight of what he had come home to burrowed deep into his soul. He collapsed into the leather chair that used to sit behind the big oak desk. Where the only person left in the world that he cared for had sat. Where he would no longer sit. Where Vergil thought that his heart would break and the ground would swallow him up.

Vergil buried his face in his hands and wept. He wept for his father, his mother, his brother, but, he wept most for the love that he had lost and would never find again.

He wept until he was exhausted and fell into a fitful sleep as the sun started to set in the distance and the shadows grew longer. The demons had come out of hiding, yet they kept a wide path around the premises, they knew somehow who was in there and they knew they should be afraid.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: OK – Dedicated to J

Yeah DMC belongs to Capcom... lucky things!

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was streaming in through the front windows. The birds were singing and there as not a demon in sight. Vergil opened his eyes slowly. What a bad dream he was having. He dreamt that he had come back and everything was gone. What a strange dream. He was quite content at the breakfast table listening to his father discuss the nights adventures to his mother. He yawned and sat up rubbing his eyes.

"Vergil sweetie, you should have a nap I think" his mother was radiant. The sun streamed in and glinted off her perfect hair. "You was up all night watching for your father…" Vergil began to protest. "Don't you give me that boy, I may not have demon powers but I have a woman's intuition" She plucked some crumbs from his cheek. He must have dozed off on his toast.

His father chuckled "Were you looking out for me, son?" his father ruffled his hair. "I know I'm safe when my boys are looking out for me." His father reached across the breakfast table and fished a slice of toast out of the rack. He smothered it in strawberry jam and passed it to Vergil. Vergil gobbled it down.

"Thanks Dad!" He looked up adoringly at his father and thought to himself that life couldn't be more perfect.

"Off to bed with you now, I'll come and wake you up in an hour." His mother said in a good natured way. She was hardly ever mad at them.

"Yes Mum" Vergil got down from the table and snatched another bit of toast. He promptly covered it with chocolate spread.

"Hmm, I wonder who that could be for?" His father grinned at him. "Run along now, go wake him up"

Vergil bounded up the stairs to their bedroom. Quietly he opened the door as not to make a sound. He crept over to his brothers bed and looked down at him. Being the older of the twins he felt like he should look after him. Hence the toast with chocolate spread. He knew that he should sleep, but he was not tired. His mother meant well and he would never dare disobey her directly, but he had the blood of Sparda flowing through his veins and he didn't need sleep as much as other people. He was strong and fast, calm and collected. The boys at school called him a nerd because he took his study seriously, even though it was only the 2nd year of High School. He was determined to do well in everything and he was proud with the work that he achieved.

Dante on the other hand was lazy. He was the jock of the two, he was only a few minutes younger but he acted about 5 years younger. He was interested in music, films and going out. He was the polar opposite to Vergil. They took the same classes and sat next to each other, mainly so the Vergil could help him out with the really tough questions. Dante was not stupid though, and he knew it. Vergil also knew it, yet he helped him as he enjoyed spending time with his brother and he loved him dearly. When Dante's friends would tease him and tell him Vergil was boring Dante would always stick up for him and shout his friends down. When Dante, constantly, was getting into scraps Vergil would come in and dispatch who ever was making the problems worse. After a short time of starting at the school they were well known as being the Sparda Twins and people didn't bother to pick on them anymore.

Vergil was convinced it was because people were scared of them but they wouldn't say. Dante said it was because they were dead sexy and they couldn't compete against that. As he would say, they have inherited the best from their father, his smooth hair and his power, from their mother her pale skin and porcelain features. They both had ice blue eyes, but Vergil had more of his fathers cold calculated temperament, whereas Dante has his mothers warm personality. Dante was fast to make friends, although they may not have lasted long, whereas Vergil mainly kept to himself. They had the same circle of friends because they found they were more at ease with each others company.

Dante was always surrounded by a gaggling group of girls, much to Vergil's annoyance. Dante loved the attention, he liked to be seen as a ladies man. Girls seemed to flock to him like a moth to a lamp. Vergil would find them grinding and irritating. He had no time for women, he was looking to carry on his fathers work. Dante would walk into the common room and the girls would start to whisper and giggle. Vergil walked in and they would gaze in awe. Why they did this he was not sure, it made him uncomfortable sometimes, he figured Dante must have said something to them to make them think he was wonderful. Typical of his bother. He would never hear a bad word said about him, and he would defend him to his dying breath.

Dante stirred in his sleep and threw an arm out of the bed. He grasped his gun that he had made. It was white and as beautiful as his sleeping brother. Dante had made two guns. One for him and one for Vergil. Vergil shunned the gun though, feeling that it was not as good a weapon as his Yamato, but he would still spend hours doing shooting practice with him in the back garden as well as hours training. They were both determined to make their father proud.

Vergil stroked the hair back from Dante's face. He would never tell him but he liked to watch his bother sleep. He looked so innocent and defenceless. He would often fall asleep while watching a movie or something in bed while Vergil was in the bed on the other side of the room reading. Sometimes he would just sit for hours in the dark listening to his brother sleep. Vergil smiled, maybe he had gotten the lazy gene from his mother. She was not a very morning person and would often curl up with their father in the evening on the sofa and fall asleep. He was surprised that she was up with their father this morning, normally it was just Vergil that was the early bird.

Suddenly something shattered downstairs in the kitchen. Vergil ran down the stairs. A large portal was in the middle of the room and his mother was laying on the floor dead. His father was standing over her trying to wake her up. Demons swarmed from the portal. They tried to take his mothers body away from his father. His father was battling against them trying to get them back from her but it was no good. They swarmed in and took her.

"YOU!" his father turned to him with a rage he had never seen before. His eyes hardened to twin ice shards staring daggers at Vergil. "ITS YOUR FAULT" his father roared at him and slashed at him with his sword.

"But, wait!" Vergil panicked and tried to back away only to find Dante's corpse behind him with both guns pointed at him. "What the…" Vergil was confused. He had only just seen his bother in bed a moment ago.

The portal started to close and his father was sucked down with it.

"NO!" Vergil screamed and tried to pull it open again. He screamed with all his might and ripped at the portal. He didn't understand what had just happened. His family was falling apart.

"Dante, help me!" Vergil's voice was shaky and strained "Please…"

Dante raised his gun. Blood dripped from the muzzle and ran down his arm. His body was a mess of cuts and bruises, each of them weeping with blood and making a soft splat on the floor. Vergil stared at him horrified. What had he done to deserve this?

"You suck, bro" Dante pulled the trigger and everything went black.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: OK – Dedicated to J

Yeah DMC belongs to Capcom... lucky things!

--------------------------------------------------------------------

"DANTE!" Vergil leapt from the chair with a start. His clothes were rumpled and his hair was in an even worse state than it was last night. He looked around wildly spinning. The room was disorganised and grey. Noises came from the rubble collected around the door frame. Vergil drew his sword in a flash and slashed a rat in two without even thinking. He looked down in horror, what if it had been a human? Ok he didn't like them but he didn't want to kill them, well sometimes, but he was better now.

He looked around dazed and confused. What had just happened? The sun was streaming in the window and the birds were singing.

A dream, he muttered to himself, it was all a dream. Dante was not a corpse in doorway about to shoot him. Yes his mother and father were gone, but it was not like that, it was harsher and certainly rawer than what had happened in his dream. They had been much younger as well, his mind had been playing tricks on him.

He sank back into the chair with a cloud of dust coming out of it making him blink. He rubbed his chin. Ow, he needed to see to these scratches on his face. He turned to go up the stairs and thought better of it – he didn't want to be in the bathroom right now. At least there was not so much blood down here as there was upstairs. It was not the idea of the blood that disgusted him. Demon blood was just rank, but he had gotten used to the smell. It was his brother's blood that disturbed him. There was an underlying smell of fear and desperation as well which made him feel even guiltier. It was not his fault he told himself sternly. It's not like he would have been able to prevent it. Could he?

He shook his head and immediately felt dizzy. Woah, lack of food. He hadn't eaten for at least a day. Normally a day or two without food wouldn't faze him. But then he remembered all the damage he had incurred just before leaving Asia. Being half demon he had amazing stamina and healing abilities, but he still needed food to fuel them. His muscles didn't ache as much as they had done, but his cheek throbbed. Maybe it was something in that which was causing him to feel groggy.

He went into the kitchen and was greeted by a frightening cheery scene. The table was there just as in his dream, with a table cloth and the table was set for breakfast. With the sun coming in through the large windows he was almost transported back in time. He looked to the left almost expecting him to see his mother standing over the stove cooking up pancakes or waffles; all three of the Sparda males loved big breakfasts, normally because they would have been out the night before on business. He remembered hunting with his father and brother when he was training them. Even at that young and age they had been deadly, and they had managed to gather a lot of money. Although the building was little more than a house with the front room converted to a shop they had a large fund hidden away in property, bonds and shares. There were many properties that belonged to the name of Sparda.

They had castles in remote villages where his father would take them on holiday and they would rejoice fighting demons in the snow. Mostly they loved being able to be normal boys for once. Their mother had a great aim with a snowball and she was normally the winner. He smiled to himself. How had a beautiful creature like her, so delicate but strong, been able to tame the great Dark Knight himself? Especially when Sparda would have been able to kill her without even thinking about it.

Alas the kitchen was deserted. But a pan was on the stove. He walked over and found the charred remains of a waffle. He frowned. Was this here yesterday? He didn't remember checking the kitchen. Then he realised there was a layer of ash and dust over everything. This had been the last time someone was alive in this place.

Vergil was shocked. The attack must have come in the early hours, just when Dante would have been dancing around the kitchen cooking. Dante loved cooking for them; he had a sweeter tooth and was happy being domestic. Vergil was happy just sitting with the paper drinking coffee. A mirror image of his mother and father, she would cook, he would drink tea.

The morning paper was on the side of the table. He picked it up and then fell backwards into a chair with shock. This had happened less than a week ago. The date on the day's paper shouted it out loud and clear. He could almost head Dante cursing him for postponing his flights. He had sent him an email saying he needed a few more weeks and would be back soon. Dante had replied why even bother coming back? You obviously didn't want to stay in the first place. No 'See ya, Bro'. No 'You're missing out on all the big ones'. Just 'Don't bother to come back'.

Vergil had stayed even longer; he was scared of Dante rejecting him. After all this time Dante had started to hate him it seemed. He had taken him back in after he had come back from hell. He had looked after him. They had gone to the castle and chilled out in the snow just like when they were kids. There was hardly a bad word said to him. But Vergil hadn't been able to take it. He had wanted Dante to hate him. He deserved it after all; he had tried to kill him and had scorned being saved when there was the chance for it. But Dante, dear loving Dante, had put that all to one side to look after him. And he repaid him by telling him he was leaving to better himself and he didn't know when he would be back. Dante had argued with him telling him to stay. They had fought here, in the kitchen like the stubborn devils they were until Vergil had just picked up his bag and sword and left. He hadn't even said goodbye. Pretty much all of his emails had gone unanswered. That was very unlike Dante. When they were apart they kept in touch. Often their work would send them to various places and they wouldn't be fighting the same battles all the time. They would email and text each other to let the other know where they would be, and normally whose turn it would be to get the take out.

Dante was a pizza lover, Vergil would get Chinese. It was a set tradition. Vergil fished his phone out of his pocket and turned it on. He had not used it in months. The welcome message flashed up, he allowed himself a smile. Dante was always messing about with the phones and this last message was 'Smile if you think I'm sexy'. Vergil was not one for smiling, but when he thought of Dante it was hard not to. He was the day, Vergil the night. This time the message almost brought a tear to his eye.

The phone beeped signifying low battery. Vergil looked for the charger in the drawer and plugged it in. He was still amazed that the kitchen had survived the massacre. He opened the fridge and found a loaf of bread, some butter and some jam. The bread was a little stale, but toasting it and it would be fine. He dusted off the toaster and popped the bread in. Ok not exactly breakfast of kings, but it was a start. He looked in the cupboard and found his mothers old mirror. She would often do her makeup in the kitchen. She said it had the best light, and she was not about the fight for the bathroom with the boys. Vergil was not vain, but he was a perfectionist. His hair had to be done just do. Dante was vain though. He loved the fact they were good looking and had not inherited more of their father gruesome features.

This was another fact that surprised him about his mother. She knew he was a devil. And she knew what his true face looked like. Yet it had not frightened her away. And his father was a very polite gentleman, not one to turn away a gentle lady. She had stolen his heart from the first sight. Little know to his father she had felt the same way. They had 'courted' as they so lovingly put it for ages before they gave themselves to each other. Dante said it's called dating now, they would just laugh it off and his father would say, back in his day it was just called mating!

He grimaced when he looked in the mirror. He needed a wash. He needed a shave. And oh my those cuts were worse than before! He gingerly touched them and managed to extract a long worm like thing from each. He put them on the table. What the hell were they? There were three in all and as he watched them they started to whither and die. Maybe the hell child had laid some spore in him. He shrugged and cleaned his cuts the best he could. They still stung but after finding half a bottle of some vodka and bathing his cute in it they started to heal. Very slowly.

POP.

The toast was ready. His stomach growled and protested until he had finished the entire loaf. He ran his hands through his hair and thought to himself 'Now what?' He drank his coffee and opened the paper to see what had been happening in the world. He knew he should get a bath, and he figured he would use the teleporter to go to the castle and get cleaned up.

The castle was where most of the grateful demons and people stayed. By grateful it meant who where indebted to the Sparda family for one thing or another. His father never requested them to stay, but they liked to live on the grounds, they were a harmless bunch and they knew they were safe. The castle was guarded by many warriors that his father knew and had served with, there were many magical barriers surrounding them protecting them from the outside world. Life, if you was a good natured demon was good there. They helped out on the grounds, tending to the gardens, generally running the castle. There was always clean sheets on the beds and a good chef in the kitchen.

The world a week ago was no more interesting than it was yesterday in the paper he had picked up.

He closed the paper and made his way into the front office. Something was not quite right out here. The sky seemed to have gotten darker and the air seemed heavy almost to thick to breathe. Vergil looked out the front door. Something was coming. And it was big and it was angry. Vergil smelt its anger and wrath from where he was. There was nothing in the immediate street though, maybe it was behind the shop.

He grabbed his coat and sword and climbed up to the roof. The sky became darker. This must be a strong one. Only some of them are able to change the environment around them.

The tower loomed in the background. It sent shivers down Vergil's spine. He remembered the power that he had used to open it up and what it had felt like to him. He had liked it. This was now a role reversal. It was him standing to defend the shop again hell's finest instead of Dante. This had not been his thing for a while. Vergil frowned. He wasn't able to get a track on the demons location. It was masking its presence reasonably well. That was not always a good thing. Either it was one big one with lots of power, or it was many little ones joining forces and creating a large presence.

He jumped down from the shop and moved silently in the direction the creature seemed to be taking. It was bobbing about all over the place, it seemed to be trying to draw him away. Vergil was much wiser and knew a trap when he sensed rather than saw one. He stopped at the entrance to the alley way that was emitting the most dark force that he could get a reading from and drew his sword.

The creature came flying out from the alley with an almighty scream and Vergil's blade cut through the air with a singing sound. It was as sharp as the white hot adrenaline that now coursed through his veins during battle. He knew it was his demon counterpart trying to escape but he kept it in check.

This demon, creature, thing, whatever it was, was good. It was fast. It almost knew his moves before he had made them. He was struggling with the battle and he was starting to think he might not prevail. He slashed at it again and struck down hard, the blade vibrated along his arm and down to his bones. The thing was tough, it had a thick armour. Normally Dante would have shot the things defences down by now, but Vergil did not have guns, guns were beneath him. He said the words and blue swords appeared and shot towards the demon. Vergil smirked, it looked startled, it hadn't expected this.

The demon vanished, leaving him panting a little. He wasn't out of shape, he must have just been low on energy, he should go shopping for more food later. He bent down and picked up a shard of material that had come off of the demon when one of this swords had struck it. It was thick and black, like tar almost, but hard. He sniffed it, eurgh, this demon smelt worse than him. At least it was damageable, just tough.

He jumped back to the roof of the shop and surveyed the surrounding. Everything else was quite. Maybe it was just a random attack, maybe it was planned. Maybe it would come back. It didn't matter if it did. He would kill it. Just like he always did, after all, who else would?


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: OK – Dedicated to J

Yeah DMC belongs to Capcom... lucky things!

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Virgil landed gently on the ground in front of the shop. His coat settled gracefully around him. He stretched his back and cracked his neck. Maybe he would find something edible in the freezer he wondered. He could feel his heart beating slowly and steady, his breathing had returned to normal, but he was feeling a little weak. He glanced down at his hand and realised that he had been gripping his sword with a little more vigour than was necessary. His knuckles were whiter than his hair. He let go and flexed his hand as we walked towards the shop. He should really find his gloves; they must be in the bag he thought.

The door was closed. Well what was supposed to be the front door was closed. Vergil had no closed it before he left. He tried to open it. It didn't budge. He tried again, a little harder this time. Nothing. He drew back and then kicked it hard. The door flew inwards flying off its hinges and into the remains of the pool table.

The room was dark. Vergil was pissed. How dare a demon have this amount of cheek to enter his home? His eyes glinted as they adjusted to the gloom and his blade shimmered in the dark. He side stepped from the door so he was not such an easy target.

BANG.

Vergil tucked and rolled. Another volley of gun fire followed and he used his sword to help defect them. What sort of demon uses guns he thought? A cowardly one or one that had learned to enslave the humans and use their technology.

The demon let out a roar and Vergil realised it was closer than he thought. He gagged, too close; he could smell the things breath. He could sense the movements in the shadows but he couldn't get a fix on it. It moved to fast and he was too low on energy to be able to focus properly. He summoned a few swords and sent them in the general direction that he figured the thing was. They each stuck in the walls as they had not hit anything, but they gave off a slight blue shimmer so he could at least illuminate that area. The room was not that big he thought to himself. There are not that many places it could hide.

He stalked round the remains of the pool table, sword drawn and ready to strike. He held his breath to listen to the room. It had grown too quiet; it was as though he was in a vacuum.

The room exploded with sound and Vergil pulled the rest of the pool table onto its side as he hid behind it in time. He could feel the bullets drilling into the other side of the table and could feel the force behind them. The table was beginning to break apart and he was starting to panic a little. His health was low, and last thing he wanted was to be filled full of lead, even with his demon blood it would take a while to recover from that!

He flew up and over the table above the gunfire and came down heavy on the creature slashing at its head with his sword. He let out a cry of pain as the demon ripped through his coat and sliced into his arm. The pain was great and Vergil had no choice but to trigger or escape. He figured that trying to escape would use more energy so with a roar and a sickening wet ripping sound he unleashed his full power and let his demon side come to the surface.

His eyesight was perfect for the darkness and the creature he was facing was not as fast as before. It was about he same size as him now he had triggered and it seemed to be just as angry as he was. Although Vergil liked the feeling of power triggering gave him he preferred to keep this side under wraps, the power was so delicious and the carnage was so beautiful.

Vergil shook his head to concentrate; the corners of his vision were clouded with red by his blood pumping twice as fast around his body and the pure rage at the demon making him even madder. How dare this filthy thing come into his house!

He summoned more swords at an alarming rate and the demon staggered back as it was drilled full of them. Vergil allowed himself a grin and followed it up with some well placed slashes with his sword.

The demon was starting to bleed. Vergil could smell its fear and he knew that he had the upper hand. All the training wasn't in vain, in honing and improving his normal fighting skills he had inadvertently improved his demon skills and he loved the way his body ripped and responded to the fight more than he realised he could. He was actually enjoying this.

BANG.

Vergil stumbled and glanced up at the other demon. It was still fast and with him being over confident it had been able to shoot at him. The bullet had torn through one of his wings. No big deal, it would heal in minutes, but he couldn't afford to be lax. Although the devil trigger was giving him the extra boost he needed he needed to concentrate, he could feel his energy slowly rising but if he was hit too many times even the power of the trigger would not help.

The demon laughed and growled at him. Vergil spat and raised his sword.

"COME ON THEN!" he called out to the demon, how dare it laugh at him. Vergil roared with anger and flew forward like a mad man swords flying in all directions and slashing at the demons body.

This seemed to have taken it by surprise as it stumbled and staggered as it was impaled by the swords and it groaned as his sword sliced into its sides. It was working, the demon was growing weaker. It was not able to keep up with the pace of Vergil's attacks and it was backed up into the corner.

"Die" Vergil growled as he plunged his sword deep into the demons chest, he felt his sword go into the wall behind, the vibrations singing along the blade.

The demons eyes grew wide and it screamed with an ear splitting pitch. Vergil backed away and covered his ears. As he did so he morphed back to his normal state. His coat was going to need a little patching up and he was sore from various wounds but he was ok.

The demon thrashed and yelled clawing at the sword. It was pulling it out! No, Vergil thought, that should be enough! There were ghost swords still jutting out from other sections of the demons body and it was just still going. It had now pulled the sword from its chest. Vergil tensed. This was going to be tricky.

The demon roared and fell to its knees. It looked at Vergil's sword and back up at Vergil. It looked confused. It seemed to be trying to speak to him. Vergil was not about to get close to it to hear what it was going to say. He was not in the mood to have his limbs ripped off. Maybe this was a similar tactic to some other strong demons he had faced, they pretend to be weak and helpless and when you go into deal the final blow they leap up and drain your energy. Oh what he would do for a good cup of his father's tea right now.

"I thought you were not coming back?" The demon was on its hands and knees on the floor. What was that? Vergil thought it had tried to speak to him. The demon looked up at him with a meek expression in its eyes.

"Vergil" the demon collapsed on it its front and twitched slightly. Any moment now, Vergil thought, poof. The demon remained where it was. Surly they thing was dead? Vergil took a chance and whisked his sword from the demons limp hand. He used the tip of his sword to poke the things shoulder. It didn't move. It was slightly trembling, maybe it wasn't dead.

Vergil took a step back to think. Was this thing really a demon then? Could it be a possessed human? He looked down at the form on the floor, no a human would not be able to take this form, it was certainly devil in essence. He stooped down to have a closer look. Now that the thing was out of action the light had returned to the room and it was easier to get a better look at it. The things armour was strangely familiar with a reddish brown texture, which he had mistaken for black earlier. Or maybe it was black in places, the demon was curled around itself so it was hard to get a proper look at it.

The thing was still breathing it seemed. But Vergil sensed that it was either unconscious and wouldn't be getting up for a while or it was just recuperating. Vergil thought for a second and then with a swift kick rolled the thing over to get a proper look at its face and the wounds it might have.

Its mouth was gaping and it was drooling slightly, there was blood mixed in the spit that was coming out of its mouth. Vergil smiled to himself, he had damaged it quite a lot. There were various cuts and gashes over the things torso, and he could see the blood starting to heal and congeal, but it would take a while. The demon wouldn't be moving for a while.

Vergil bent down to have a good look at the thing. His father had always tried to get a good look at the things he fought, just in case he came up against anything again. He had an encyclopaedic knowledge of the foes his father had vanquished and this was a good opportunity to go through his memory banks to see if he could classify this, this thing.

The demons eyes were wide open. They were blue. Ice blue. They were just like his.

Identical in fact.

Vergil fell backwards. No it can't be. He was sure that he was dead. The blood. The room. The battle marks. The whole house.

The demon blinked at him. In one swift movement it transformed in to the brother Vergil had thought was lost to the world. He was sure that he was gone. The emotions raging through Vergil's body conflicted with the rage at his brother attacking him in such a cold blooded manner, he then remembered he was a cold blooded killer when he had left and Dante, his dear Dante, would have no idea what he had been through and much he had changed since he had last seen him.

Dante was breathing shallowly and coughing up blood. Vergil knelt beside him. What have I done? He reached out and touched his brothers chest. Dante winced noticeably. Vergil drew back. He didn't want to hurt him any more than he had done. Dante was mumbling a little. Vergil couldn't hear him so he leant forward a little. What was he trying to tell him? Dante was coughing more and struggling to sit up, this distressed Vergil more. He ripped some rags off the curtains, what was left of the curtains and pressed them to his wounds trying to stem the flow of blood. He would not let his twin die damnit. How did he not recognise him? There was something different about him and he needed to find out. But that is not important now. His brother needed him.

Dante reached behind him and drew a gun.

"You suck, bro"

Vergil's world went black.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: OK – Dedicated to J

Yeah DMC belongs to Capcom... lucky things!

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Dante stood and stretched his legs out. Vergil was lying cold on the floor. Sucker, Dante thought. Well he shouldn't have come back should he? He rubbed his neck and looked around the place. Damn, he didn't think that he would have been able to mess the place up more than it had been but the little fray with Vergil had managed to disintegrate the rest of the pool table and there were many more bullet holes in the walls. Well a little sunlight never hurt anybody.

Dante went into the kitchen and opened the fridge; at the back was a small compartment with vials of glowing green liquid. Demon essence. The things he had to go through to get these. Luckily the supplier relied on Dante being able to beat them into submission so he was able to get them for free, but the bigger the demon the better the essence and the higher the price. He also got a small cut in the profits, but as it was a rather niche market it was not a solid income.

He threw his head back and downed the vial. He shuddered and gagged. As much as he needed to use them he still couldn't get used to the taste of them. But then without them he would have been dead when they came for him the last time.

Someone, he was sure who, had sent a large task force after him. He guessed it would have been Mundas being trapped on the other side of the barrier being unable to pass through but could send minions. Normally only one or two would come through at a time and they were easily dispatched, occasionally there would be a few bigger ones at the same time, the more powerful the greater the number were able to pass over.

Over 1000 demons had walked the earth that day. He closed his eyes and remembered the screaming of the humans, the panic and despair. He remembered the blood and he remembered the pain. There was nothing he could do to stop the slaughter of so many people. He fought with all his might and destroyed a great number of the lesser demons but the higher ranking ones were harder to dispatch. Even with the added strength of his devil trigger he was unable to over come them. He was one against an army. It reminded him of the time when he followed Vergil into the tower to stop him from opening the portal in the first time round. He battled many and he had changed. But he still forgave him when he clawed his way back out of the other side.

He had taken him back in and comforted him in the dark. Vergil had changed. He was much quieter. He was drawn and paler than before. His features were harder and colder. Dante had trouble reaching out to him. He should have been mad at him. Vergil had tried to destroy the world, but he was secretly proud of him. Vergil had been able to harness the power their father had given them in ways he had never been able to. The flying sword trick he had, jealous much. But then with power comes darkness it seems.

Dante leaned against the fridge feeling the demon juices working its magic. His wounds which would have caused a mortal man to die from blood loss were healing faster than before and he was starting to feel much better. A little woozy from the blood loss still. Although the essence returned his strength, it only affected the demon side of him. The human side of him still craved a good hot cup of sweet tea and a biscuit. Ah, he smiled, he was his father's son after all. His father was a fan of good tea and his mother was the queen of tea makers. It was the only thing that had been able to get him up and awake in the morning!

He sat at the table and waited for the feeling of dizziness to pass. What was he going to do about his brother? He was so angry at him right now. He could feel the rage hot in his veins. After all Dante had shot him. Ok he would recover, but it was point blank in the shoulder. No wonder he had blacked out. He was sick of it though. Vergil had upped and left him just before this whole mess started. It was just uncalled for. He was going to find out just what the hell he had been doing and why the hell he had come back.

He was not about to take a cold clipped answer that his brother was so famous for giving. He had changed. He had become stronger and embraced his demon side more than before. His devil trigger was sleeker and stronger. It was camouflaged towards the city now, he was almost unstoppable.

He should at least thank his brother for that, he thought, as a bitter smile crept across his face. If he had not left he wouldn't have been attacked and he wouldn't have had to have that god awful potion from the supplier to save his life.

That was the reason he hated Vergil. He had become more powerful, but it didn't meant he liked what he had become. He had started to enjoy the killing and the fighting. Vergil had always enjoyed the battle more than him, he found it fun alright, but he was the cocky childish one, Vergil was the hard fighter. He was the disciplined one; he was the one that relished the victory. Dante liked to win, but it was a different feeling now. It was pure satisfaction and he enjoyed inflicting the pain and watching the demons suffer. He could sense their fear even more than before and he almost fed off it like they did. He retched and fought to hold on to the crap in his stomach. It tasted bad enough on the way down, he didn't fancy a repeat.

Vergil groaned in the other room. Shit. He should really go see to him. He would be weak and would need his wound seen to. Just the idea of looking after his brother made his vision swim in blood. He was done with that. He had tried to help him last time. And look what had happened. He had become his brother. He liked the new found power, but he didn't like the way it was forced upon him. He liked the human side of him, he enjoyed going down the bar for a few drinks, chat up the barmaid like always and have a good time. Last time he went there she was scared of him. He was not sure what it was but when he got back home and looked in the shattered remains of the mirror what he saw scared him.

He had been staying in the building across the road from the shop. The place was a mess, but it was reasonably clean compared to this dump. He only came here every so often to stock up on the essence and to eat sometimes. He loved the kitchen. It was the place where his mother was. He had loved his mother so much. He was defiantly a mummy's boy as Vergil put it, but then Vergil was his father's little soldier.

Dante got up and threw the vial into the trash, hmmm should really take that out I guess now that Vergil is home, he thought to himself. He picked up a chair and took it into the front room. Vergil was against the wall and holding his shoulder. He was pale, ghostly pale. Dante was slightly worried, Vergil was a tough boy, but looking this pale. He was almost sorry for him. Then he remembered he was angry at his twin and he needed answers. His eyes narrowed and he reminded himself that this was the man that had walked out on and he could be dead now because of it.

He gritted his teeth and stormed into the room.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: OK – Dedicated to J

Yeah DMC belongs to Capcom... lucky things!

Whew – this one is a long one – its what I've been building up to for a while – I'm not entirely sure if its done yet… it might get edited again!

J – hope you like it so far!

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Dante put the chair in front of Virgil and sat on it. He leant forward on his thighs and cracked his neck. His eyes were sharp and he liked the way Vergil looked away when he looked into his eyes. Vergil was scared of him it seemed. Vergil afraid to meet someone's eyes, let alone his. My the tables had turned hadn't they?

"Why?" Dante snapped and sat back on the chair and waited for an answer.

Vergil blinked at his twin and stayed silent

"I asked you a question you bastard" he hissed through his teeth

"Where do you want me to start?" Vergil sighed and looked at the floor. "I don't understand, what happened?"

"Tell me why you left!" Dante was angry and was not about to let this go. If Vergil wanted to know what had happened then he would first talk to him and tell him why he left and then maybe Dante would humour him. More likely throw him out, but then beating him to a pulp was rather tempting too.

Vergil just looked at the floor. He looked like he was trying to figure out what to say and where to begin. Dante sat there and stared at him.

"Well, I couldn't stand to be around you any more…"

"You couldn't stand to be around me?" Dante exploded out of the chair interrupting Vergil.

"After everything that I did for you shouldn't it be me who didn't want to be around you?"

Vergil held his had up trying to calm his twin. "Please, let me explain?" He looked up at his brother. He was toned and taught like a wire ready to break. He had to be careful what he said. He knew something was different about him. He seemed to have a dark power that wasn't there before and Vergil wanted to learn more about it before invoking it on himself.

Dante stomped out of the room and returned with two bottles. He held one out to his brother. "I'm still mad at you, but I want you to stay alive long enough so I can hear what you have to say and then I can decide if I should kill you or not!"

Vergil took the bottle of water and guzzled it down fast. It felt cool and pure, it was delicious. Water would not be enough to restore his strength but it would certainly help.

Dante sat back on the chair and drank the water. He kept his eye on his brother. He waited for him to finish drinking and then kicked at him with his boot.

"You deserve a full explanation, and you will get one. But in return I want to know what happened, ok?"

"You deserve nothing" Dante spat at him. "You are in no position to make conditions."

Vergil nodded. This was the confrontation he was expecting. He knew Dante would be angry and he knew it would take a while to put things right but he would try.

"Well it started when you found me. When I had come back." Vergil paused.

"Go on"

"Well, after everything that had happened in the tower, and then on the island, you still just wanted to save me from myself and to stop me doing something that I shouldn't. I threw it back in your face and refused to be saved. I deserved what I got I deserved to be punished. I had hurt you so badly, I'd never done anything like that before…" Vergil took another drink of water.

"No, yet you've managed to do it again."

Vergil nodded. "Yes, and I'm sorry, I'm a fool. I didn't deserve you to take me back. I wanted to just crawl into the gutter and die, but you found me outside and you brought me back in. you helped me through everything. You put up with my mood. You put up with my anger. I was scared at what I had become. I was a killing machine and I had tried to destroy everything."

Dante's eyes narrowed, could it be that Vergil was back on the side of Mundas and he was trying to wheedle his way back into Dante's good books by giving him all the I'm so sorry story. He looked at his feet. He'd let him back in before. He wasn't sure that he would be able to do it again. It hurt like hell to be in the same room as him, hurt in a way that he didn't want it to hurt, hurt in the way that his heart felt like it would rip apart and fall to the floor. He wanted to stay angry at him. He needed to stay angry. Focus Dante.

"You shouldn't have helped me. There was nothing that you could have done to help me. I needed to spend time alone until I was ready to face the world again. I was evil." Vergil massaged at his wound. It was sore but it was starting to heal a little. Would mean getting his coat dry cleaned again. His cheek was still sore as well, the energy he was using to heal his shoulder was being taken away from his lesser wounds.

Dante's eyes widened. "What's that?" He gestured with the bottle of water to his face.

"Demon child at the station. Nasty piece of work." He touched his cheek. It wasn't bleeding but it was tender again. That little bitch had a nasty bite.

"Come on. I'm not finished with you yet" Dante's voice turned colder and Vergil flinched at the change in tone.

"Yes, there is so much." He gazed around the room. "I couldn't face being around you. It was just you, Dante."

"ME??" Dante got up with a start and pulled his brother up by the collar. "All I ever did was love you, you ungrateful bastard!" He held his twin against the wall and could feel the waves of guilt and sorrow coming of him. Dante's blue eyes glinted and grew sharp.

"That's just the point!" Vergil shouted back. "I loved you too much and being around you feeling your love for me, it was too much! I changed in the Underworld, Dante. I changed! I realised I could not only feel emotions of humans but I could taste them."

Dante dropped him. "You never loved me, only yourself" Vergil crumbled against the wall using it for support. Why wasn't Dante listening?

"We are half human. I didn't realise just how much that meant before." Vergil was panting and blood was flowing from his shoulder again. "We can sense each other, how we feel, but nothing like what Father could. He was able to sense exactly what we were feeling and just what we needed. He could tell mother why we were crying and he could feel her. He could feel just how much she loved him"

"Our Father didn't know us! He wasn't around long enough!"

"She told me, Dante." Vergil panted, this argument was wearing him out. He was exhausted, mentally, emotionally and physically.

Dante's eyes widened. "She told you?"

"She told us both, yet you were more interested in the pizza. I asked her if we were good babies and she told us how he could tell what we needed before we could talk. And she told us that he could feel just how much we loved him and how much she loved him"

"Could she tell how much we loved her?" Dante was curious, angry, but curious. His mother was human, but she was more than that.

"Yes, but not in the same way he did. She could tell by the way we were around her. But it was not the same way we could sense her emotions. Don't you remember the way she tasted when she realised he wasn't coming back?"

Dante closed his eyes. He remembered alright. It was bitter and vile. He had been quite ill and Vergil had helped him through it. He had been strong even though they were so young and he had helped him block the pain out. They were able to control how they sensed peoples, Dante had yet to learn to control it, but Vergil helped him to hone his skill. If he hadn't been able to reign his power in he wouldn't have been able to be in the same room as his mother.

"I can taste you." Vergil stood up straight and looked him square in the eye.

"You what?" Dante was disgusted. "Taste me?"

"I can feel your love for me, I can feel how you feel. You are not guarding your emotions, you are throwing them at me. And it hurts. It hurts to know how you feel. You are raging at me but you still love me…"

Dante cut him off with a punch to his other shoulder sending him back into the wall. "I DO NOT LOVE YOU ANYMORE" he shouted and started to punch his brother.

Vergil tried to guard himself but Dante was too strong. The dark power that he could sense was coming to the surface and in his weakened state it was all he could do to was attempt to block the blows. He could feel the world growing dark again. "Let it all out Dante, I deserve this."

Dante just kept hitting him. his punches were getting sloppy and he was making pained noises. Vergil was grunting with pain. He was coughing blood and sagging against the wall. He was struggling to stand up.

Dante slapped at him and Vergil fell to the ground.

"You left me, you bastard, you left me to die and you didn't care. I loved you more than anything I looked after you and I needed you." Dante was babbling through wrenching sobs as he fell to his knees beside his brother.

"I love you too, Dante." Vergil coughed blood. "That's why I couldn't stay. I could feel your love, I could feel your pain that I was causing you by being around you. I needed to get away and sober myself up. I needed to learn to be human again. fighting demons with you is what I want to do. But I wasn't able to do it as well as I used to because of the conflicting emotions."

Dante sobbed and rocked slightly. "They tore me up. I would have been dead if I hadn't gotten to the supplier."

"What the one that gives you the orbs?" Vergil reached out to touch Dante, but the feelings he was giving off made him stop. He was hurting more than before, he was filled with pure hate and rage, but in a mournful way. Not a useful way that they had learnt to channel it into their fighting.

Dante rubbed his face and knocked away Vergil's hand. "Yes the same. But this time it was for different stuff." He stomped off again.

Vergil sighed and sat up against the wall straighter. He was so weak. What he needed was for Dante to leave him alone and let him recover, but he owed it to his twin. He could DT and get a little energy back, but he was almost out of energy and it would only cause him more pain.

Dante was back and held a bottle of green stuff in front of his face. "You know what this is?"

Vergil stared in horror. "This is... But how… Don't tell me you didn't?" Vergil eyes grew wide. He knew what it was. He had fed on it in the Underworld. It was the only thing that had been able to help him to heal his wounds when Mundas put him against great hordes of enemies.

"It was die in our bedroom closet or use the last of my strength and get this." He tossed it down to Vergil.

"But I told you about it to warn you about it" Vergil began.

"Drink it."

"I can't"

"DRINK IT"

Vergil picked up the bottle. "Dante, don't make me."

"You have about 30 minutes before you die I'd estimate judging from the blood loss and the way you are being around me. This is what made your powers awaken more to be able to feel me more. And I can feel you as well. You are dying."

Vergil nodded. "I deserve to die for what I've put you through."

"If you don't drink it." Dante knelt down so the were eye to eye. "I'll damn well force you to drink it." He hissed. He pulled the top off and put it in Vergil's hand.

Vergil looked his twin square in the eye. If he really had enhanced his powers using this then he would be able to feel his terror at using this. In the demon world it had the same use as a Vital Star. It would heal his demon side. But it also healed his demon powers. This had made his demon side stronger and more powerful. This must be what had made Dante's devil trigger change. Vergil's hadn't changed, only grown stronger, and darker.

"Will this help you if I drink it?"

Dante closed his eyes and looked away. His emotions were in overdrive. He now understood why his brother had left, but he still couldn't forgive him. "I don't know what will help me right now." Dante looked his brother in the eye. "I can understand why, but I can't forgive the what."

Vergil nodded. "I understand." He shuddered as he drank the bottle. "Urgh, that's more disgusting than I remembered" He pulled a face and Dante smiled. Was that a smirk on his brother's face? It looked like it. He put his head back against the wall and weakly smiled back.

"Yeah, that's a strong one. I only get the best. They rely on me to get the sods, then drain them and I get first pick." He stood up and held out his hand. Vergil took it hesitanly and allowed Dante to pull him to his feet.

"You need something to eat. Where ever you have been, they didn't feed you properly."

"Mainly rice, I was in Asia."

Dante raised an eyebrow. "Asia, huh?" He put his arm round his brother's shoulder and lead him to the kitchen. "you'll have to tell me about it over dinner. What do ya fancy?"

Vergil allowed himself to be led. There was still a dark mist hanging round the both of them, but his brother's warm comforted him and for the first time in a long while he felt that his brother would finally forgive him.

He sat down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs. "What do you have? There's not much in the fridge"

"There's nothing in the fridge, take out it will have to be."

"Anything but rice."

Dante picked up the phone and dialled. "Hey Joey, yeah the usual, but make it double. And extra anchovies on the second one. Oh and throw in a couple six packs will ya?"

"Pizza?" Vergil rolled his eyes, he should have known.

But at least it wasn't rice.


End file.
